When the revered sage Vasiṣṭha saw the royal sage Viśvāmitra arriving, he called out to his divine cow, Śabala—also known as Kāmadhenu, the wish-fulfilling cow. “Come quickly, Śabala,” he said, “and listen to my words. I am resolved to honor this royal sage with the finest meal. Prepare everything for me, so that he and his entire retinue may be received with full honor.” Vasiṣṭha asked Śabala to provide for every guest according to their desire, with all six flavors and every delicacy imaginable. “Let all those divine, wish-fulfilling things rain down for me, O Kāmadhenu,” he instructed. “Quickly produce every kind of food—solid and liquid, to be licked and to be sucked—rich with flavors, grains, and drinks.” Śabala, the fulfiller of desires, immediately set to work. For each person present, she provided exactly what they wished for. She manifested sugarcanes, honey, parched grains, the finest wines and liquors, costly drinks, and all kinds of foods, both sumptuous and simple. There appeared before them heaps of hot, well-cooked rice, piled high like mountains, along with delicious dishes, soups, and curds in abundance. There were also plentiful foods of every taste and flavor, sweetmeats, and thousands of well-filled dishes of jaggery. Everything was perfectly satisfying, and the people were filled with joy and nourishment. Thus, Vasiṣṭha fully gratified the entire army of Viśvāmitra. Viśvāmitra, along with his family, priests, and attendants, was delighted and well-nourished. Honored alongside his ministers and servants, and filled with supreme joy, he spoke to Vasiṣṭha: “O Brāhmaṇa, you have honored me with the highest hospitality. Listen now as I speak: Give me Śabala in exchange for a hundred thousand cows. For this cow is a jewel, and kings are collectors of such treasures.” He continued, “Therefore, O twice-born one, give me Śabala by right.” To this, the venerable Vasiṣṭha, foremost of sages, replied with unwavering resolve: “I will not give up Śabala for a hundred thousand cows, nor for hundreds of millions. O king, I will not give her up for heaps of silver either. I am not fit to part with her, O subduer of foes. Śabala has always been mine, just as the fame of a virtuous man is his own. Through her, I obtain offerings for gods and ancestors, and my very livelihood.” He explained further, “Through her depend the sacred fire-rituals, offerings, oblations, the utterance of svāhā and vaṣaṭ, and various branches of knowledge. All this, O royal sage, depends on her—of this there is no doubt. She is my everything, my source of satisfaction and truth. For many reasons, O king, I will not give you Śabala.” Viśvāmitra, his desire only growing, tried to persuade Vasiṣṭha with even greater offers. “I will give you elephants adorned with golden chains and goads, their necks encircled with collars of gold. I will give you fourteen thousand such golden elephants, and chariots made of gold, drawn by four white horses. I will give you eight hundred horses, adorned with tinkling bells, born of noble lineage and great strength, and a thousand and ten more. I will give you a crore of cows of various colors and ages. As many jewels or as much gold as you desire, O best of twice-born, I will give you all that—only let the spotted one, Śabala, be given to me.” But Vasiṣṭha, steadfast in his devotion, replied, “I will not give you the spotted one under any circumstance, O king. This alone is my treasure, this alone is my wealth; this alone is my everything, this alone is my very life. The new and full moon sacrifices, and all the rites duly performed—these alone are mine, O king, as are the various other rituals. All my rites depend upon her, there is no doubt. Why speak at length? I will not give up the wish-fulfilling cow.” When Vasiṣṭha would not yield, Viśvāmitra’s desire turned to force. He ordered his men to seize Śabala and began to drag her away. The spotted cow, distressed and weeping, pondered in great sorrow: “Abandoned by the supremely noble Vasiṣṭha, why am I, so miserable, being led away by the king’s men, filled with great grief? What wrong have I done to that great-souled sage, that he, seeing me innocent and devoted, abandons me, though he is righteous?” Thinking thus, sighing again and again, Śabala swiftly broke free from the king’s men, shaking them off by the hundreds. With the speed of the wind, she rushed back to Vasiṣṭha’s feet. Weeping and crying out, her voice thundering like storm clouds, she stood before him and spoke, “O venerable one, son of Brahmā, why have you abandoned me, that the king’s soldiers are taking me away from your presence?” To her, the Brahmarshi Vasiṣṭha replied gently, as one would to a grieving sister, “I do not abandon you, Śabala, nor have you done me any wrong; but this mighty king is taking you from me by force.